As [Wellington] pressed on closer to the retreating enemy, one of his staff urged him not to take any more risks. ‘Never mind,’ he answered. ‘Let them fire away. The battle’s gained. My life’s of no consequence now.’ About 10 his progress across the battlefield brought him close to La Belle Alliance. There Blucher, reeking of gin and liniment, was waiting to throw an embrace round him. ‘Mein lieber Kamerad,’ he exclaimed, ‘quelle affaire.’ The old Prussian’s few words of French were the only language they had in common.
–John Keegan, The Mask of Command